Unleashed Lightening
by Alastaie
Summary: Harry realizes at a young age the danger that his family is to him. Growing up away from a goodly influence, what will become of our boy hero?


A/N: This story came to mind while sitting on the bus and listening to a friend describe a story she was reading at the time. Fan fiction of course. So this idea popped into my mind, and I figured I'd write it before I lost it. If you have an idea for a plot bunny, do leave it in your review and I will try to add it to the next chapter. The ship is as yet undecided, and the inclusion of preternal (vampiric Harry or some other character) is also undecided. A possibility of a MM relationship between Harry and another character is being debated.

Summary: Harry realizes at a young age the danger that his family is to him. Growing up away from a goodly influence, what will become of our boy hero?

Disclaimer: Anything that looks familiar doesn't belong to me. Anything unusual is my creative mind and my artistic license.

**Unleashed Lightening**

**One: The Great Escape**

**A** small boy peered out of his bedroom, of the closet under the stairs at number four Pivet Drive in Surrey. He blinked deep green eyes at his surroundings, trying to bring everything into focus. Messy black hair fell into his eyes and his flipped his head to get it out of his view. Seeing the coast was clear he quietly slipped into the living room, where his Uncle Vernon had left his wallet carelessly sitting on the coffee table. Glancing around once more to be sure that no one was watching, he slipped a couple hundred pounds out of his uncle's wallet. Vernon liked to feel rich, so he kept lots of money at easy access. He slipped the pounds into his pocket, careful to lay them flat enough that they wouldn't be noticed.

"Harry!"

His Aunt Petunia screeched his name, making the boy flinch from the sound. Tugging his over-sized shirt down, Harry went into the kitchen and looked up at the intimidating woman who was his mother's sister.

"I'm going to give you a few pounds," Petunia said sternly. "I want you to go to the grocer and buy some flour, eggs, and sugar. I haven't got enough to bake a cake for Duddikins birthday." She handed him fifty pounds. "That should be more than enough. Make sure you bring the receipt back with you, or you'll not be eating dinner tonight."

Harry had just enough time to nod before Petunia shoved him out the door and slammed it behind him, nearly knocking in the back of the head. Hiding his grin, Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingers curling around the fifty pounds Aunt Petunia had given him.

He made his way to the grocer and wandered in. He found the water and picked up two bottles and then a refillable water bottle. Harry wandered aimlessly around the store and picked up a couple boxes of crackers and some small loaves of bread. He went though the check out, paying with his Aunt Petunia's money. A thrilling rush coursed through his body as he stepped out of the grocer. He hadn't got caught. He made his way next door into another store and bought himself a backpack to carry the water bottles in, as well as a couple changes of clothes. Packing everything away into his new backpack, Harry started walking. His intended goal was London.

Harry stopped in a side alley, not far from the grocer, but in what he knew was the right direction. Sitting down, he crossed his legs and breathed deeply. He reached out to the freakishness within himself, something he believe to be magic. Slowly he wrapped it around himself, willing it to make people ignore him and not see him until he let it go. Satisfied, he opened his eyes and peered around him.

Taking another deep breath, Harry let it out slowly. The magic rushing through him wild felt nice. Standing, he shrugged his backpack into a more comfortable position. Keeping safely to the side of the highway, Harry plodded along, one footstep at a time.

Every time Harry emptied a water bottle, he stepped into a restaurant and used the washroom, and refilled his bottle. He kept the second water bottle closed, for when he could reach a restaurant to refill his other bottle. He continued to walk far into the night, long after dark had fallen. Sometimes, Harry thought he heard whispers and soft brushes of someone touching his hair or cheek. He thought he heard his name called.

_'I'm so tired I'm hearing _and _feeling things,'_ he thought to himself. _'Maybe I should get some sleep now.'_

Deciding he was too tired to go along any further that night, Harry tucked himself into a small shelter. He drank some water, rehydrating himself. Nibbling on a couple crackers, he tugged a jacket out of his pack. It would be his blanket for now. Pulling his new jacket around him, he went to sleep.

The rumbling of early morning traffic woke Harry in the morning. Stretching, he drank some more water, ate some bread, and then started moving again. He kept up his routine from the day before, of stopping in restaurants to refill his water bottle and use the washroom.

It took him a few days, but eventually he reached London, just a little before the supper hour. He walked down the street, looking in all the shop windows.

An old ragged sign caught his attention. "The Leaky Cauldron," he whispered, reading the sign. He noticed that everyone was simply walking past the store. Harry's face crinkled in confusion. Curiosity getting the better of him, he entered the shop. He looked around upon entering, even more confused. The people in here were sitting at tables, reading papers with moving pictures and wearing funny dress and pointed hats.

Across the room, a large family of red heads were going through a doorway.

"Move along," the mother instructed her children. "We need to get in and out of Diagon Alley quickly. Supper is going to burn at The Burrow if we don't hurry. Come on. Hustle." Her voice faded as she went through the doorway, her children being herded along in front of her.

On silent cat feet, and with his magic still making him unnoticeable, Harry followed the family, gasping softly when the archway appeared. He slipped past the family into Diagon Alley and wandered around, mouth open and admiring the sights. He went into a store that sold books, but they were all on funny subjects, like transfiguration, and Charms and potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Still confused as to what the place was, Harry left the book store, Flourish and Blotts, and wandered down the street, seeing a store for some game played on brooms called Quidditch.

Frowning, he continued along until he saw a dark opening, looking like it led to another alley. Peering in, he then padded down the alley. Something about the alley scared him, made him feel like he should run away. The store windows were all dark and dirty, like they'd been closed for ages, and yet people still went in and then came out with packages in their hands.

Harry slowly gravitated to the only source of light in the alley. It was a small pub. The sign was of a full moon, with a strange symbol imprinted in it. Above the moon, the sign declared the place "Moon Fever". Harry frowned. What a weird name for a restaurant. His water bottle was empty again and he was getting low on crackers and bread. Harry also felt his strength waning, so he knew his magic would fail him soon.

Stepping forward, he pushed his way into the bar.

The door suddenly swung open faster, and Harry quickly skittered to the side, barely making it our of the way in time. A darkly clothed man swept past him and to the bar, setting a sealed box on the bar and sliding onto one of the stools. The man dropped his hood, revealing long, black, greasy hair. The hands that rested on the box were long, thin, and pale.

"This is your supply for the week," the greasy haired man told the bartender. "I expect you to have found a suitable person to learn the art from me within three days. I only have a fortnight, maybe two, to teach them."

"Thank you Severus," the bartender murmured. "The pros are very thankful of your skills."

Severus's lips curled up in a sneer. "They would die if it were not for my skills."

Harry's hand touched the door to the loo just as his magic failed him. He'd had the choice of holding out a few seconds longer and dropping unconscious, or letting it drop and hoping that no one saw him. He watched, terrified, as the potions master turned his head and looked straight at him. He dove into the loo quickly.

Severus stood from the bar and glided through the room. Pushing into the loo, he halted inside the door and watched as Harry used the toilet, and then washed all of himself from the waist up, and refilled his water bottle.

Harry turned to Severus once he'd pulled his shirt back on and had packed his bottle away.

"You look like you haven't eaten in ages," Severus murmured softly. "Come." He held out a hand. "Let me get you some wholesome food and a nutrition potion. It should make you feel better."

Shrugging his pack on, Harry cautiously took the man's hand, and let him lead him back out into the pub and up to the bar.

Severus lifted harry up onto a bar stool and then gently took his back and set it at Harry's feet. "Hey, Jack," he called to the bartender. "Get this young kid some food. He's a thin as a rail."

Jack, the bartender, chuckled and dished up a plate of food and then set it on the bar in front of Harry along with a glass of orange juice. "Eat up," he said. "We can't be letting you starve."

Harry picked up his fork and poked at the food warily. He'd never been given this much before and he was worried that there would be a high price for it.

"Well," Severus drawled. "Eat up boy. It's not poisoned."

Upon hearing 'boy', Harry jerked backwards, trying to get distance between him and the potions master. The result of the movement had him falling off his stool. As soon as he hit the ground he pulled a tiny bit of his magic around him and ran to the other side of the room before he let it go, panting softly from his exertion.


End file.
